


There's Always Something

by DinoDina



Category: Torchwood
Genre: I promise, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e13 Exit Wounds, it's not that sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15389544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinoDina/pseuds/DinoDina
Summary: There's always something to do: an alien to catch, a world to save, a bureaucrat to ignore. Some things are more pleasant than others, like going home together after a long day, and some are less so, like the moment they forget Tosh and Owen are dead, or the moment they realize they have to move on.





	There's Always Something

Ianto debated waiting for Jack to finish his call before saying goodnight and leaving. But when he looked up at Jack's office and saw what was clearly a heated conversation—and ruffled feathers that he'd have to settle tomorrow—he decided against it. There was no way to tell if the call would end soon—they usually didn't—and it wasn't worth the risk of having to talk to whatever politician Jack was arguing with.

Ianto waited to catch Jack's eye and raised a hand in farwell. When Jack returned the gesture, Ianto headed to the cog door, but stopped when he heard the slamming of a door and the unmistakable sound of clodhoppers against the Hub's grated floor.

"You're leaving?"

"Who did you just hang up on?" Ianto asked, his eyebrows rising in shock and feeling his workload grow exponentially. "We can't afford to do that, not when I'm in the field too often to deal with them!"

"I  _have_  been doing this a long time," Jack pointed out. "I can deal with them."

"But you  _don't_."

"Fine," Jack conceded. "But it's nobody important. Besides, I had to see where you're going. I didn't know you were leaving."

"I'm going home." Ianto sighed, already thinking of the crisp sheets on his bed.

But Jack's face seemed to fall, and he said, "Why don't you stay tonight? It's late." He grinned, though Ianto saw that the lechery was not up to its usual standard. "We can make the most of it."

Ianto sighed and shook his head. "I can't, I've got a headache."

"Are you alright? Is there anything you need?"

Jack looked ready to run for help, so Ianto shook his head again; bad idea. "No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I just need to sleep it off. Just tired, I think." He felt it now, throbbing dully, protesting against the movements, his body begging him to take the hint and rest.

"You can sleep here."

"In a  _bed_ , Jack."

"Alright," Jack said, picking his battles; they fit in the bunker, but it was cramped and a much better place for trysts than rest. "Let me take you home."

"What about your call?"

"That can wait."

Ianto nodded: there wasn't much they could do tonight, and took Jack's offered hand as they walked out of the Hub, Jack quickly setting it onto night mode and grabbing his coat before the door closed.

Ianto prayed for his Audi's safety as he handed Jack the keys, but if he was perfectly honest, he wouldn't be a better driver in his current state, not when his eyes kept threatening to close and the pounding in his head increased.

"Have you taken anything?" Jack asked as they entered the open road.

Ianto shook his head. "Didn't seem bad enough."

"And now?"

"Worse, but—" Ianto shrugged "—I think it's because I'm tired."

"You should have told me you were this exhausted."

"Not exhausted," Ianto protested, though he knew it was a lie. "Besides, I didn't have the time. There were the Weevils, then the Rift, then UNIT and Whitehall, and—"

"You should have  _made_  the time. None of those things are more important than your health, not when—not when we're down to just three of us." Jack sighed. " _I_  should have made the time."

"It's just a headache! I can't come running to you every time I scrape my knee or sneeze. I haven't before, and I'm not going to start now." He gave Jack a hard look. "And it's  _not_  your fault. I'm an adult, I can make my own choices."

"I never said—"

"But you were thinking it."

"You're right. I'm sorry. I just worry."

"I know." And Jack had plenty of reasons to worry; they just couldn't dwell on them.

"Now's not the time." Jack said briskly, and Ianto filed their conversation away, probably never to be mentioned again, seeing that Jack had done the same. "Let's go home and get some rest."

* * *

Ianto woke up to a half-empty bed and a sliver of sunlight flowing into his room from between the drawn curtains. He wrinkled his face, feeling the awkward post-sleep heaviness, knowing that he hadn't slept enough. His body wasn't used to full nights anymore, and though he wanted to roll over and go right back to sleep, he wouldn't be able to rest.

He ran a hand down his face and sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. The pounding in his head was back, but fainter now, weakened by the quiet night. Jack was gone, too. The empty bed and silent flat signified that.

He sighed. There'd been a Weevil or the Rift had opened, or Whitehall had called again, demanding that Jack get new team members and not letting him call the Queen for backup.

The first two they could deal with. Ianto had adapted to the short nights and instant demand for adrenaline; he could deal with frequent injuries, Gwen's incessant crying when she thought no one was looking, and the horrible empty look in his eyes that appeared more and more often in Jack's eyes.

The latter… the empty Hub was bad enough, but knowing they would have to fill it soon—

He took a deep breath. Now was not the time.

He got a suit out of the closet, turned on the coffee machine in the kitchen, and headed to the bathroom to clean up and grab a few painkillers. He'd get food on the way into the Hub: pastries for Gwen and Jack in light of the grief and long hours.

* * *

Gwen was already in the Hub when Ianto walked in, carrying breakfast in one hand and massaging his head with his other. She looked up at the smell of pastries—she always did, her face instantly brightening and causing Owen to tease her and Tosh to admonish him—and braced herself against the silence.

"I've got you three to satisfy that sweet tooth," Ianto said with a smile, holding out the bag.

"Thanks!" she returned, gapped grin shining with gratitude at the tease.

Ianto understood. It was the normality he missed, not just Tosh and Owen. it was one thing not seeing them in the Hub; it was another to know that they'd never interact again, would never laugh or smile or work together, that their absence was not due to a vacation or retirement.

"I'll take these into the boardroom, you can call Jack," she said, already on her way, but kept talking as she went up, so Ianto followed her instead. "Pet, what happened to your head?" She asked as she turned away from the table, her eyes wide with concern, urging him show her. "Ianto…"

"S'fine," Ianto said, though he felt much less in control when he wasn't touching the livid and swollen bruise. "Just hit it."

"That looks really painful, though." Gwen wasn't wrong. "I'll get you some ice, let you get looked over—" Gwen stopped. Her eyes would have been comically wide if not for the tears threatening to spill out of them, and her bottom lip wobbled. "I didn't—I didn't mean—"

Ianto nodded. "I know."

That was how Jack found them: the pastries on the table and Ianto and Gwen in each other's arms. Ianto looked up at Jack's footsteps; he'd been waiting. It wasn't the first time this had happened, not the first time one of them had broken down or forgotten Tosh and Owen were gone. It had been Jack the previous time, and Ianto before that.

He threw Jack a look—apologetic, forgiving, encouraging, he didn't quite know—and that was when Gwen pulled away. Briefly, Ianto wanted her to stay. He was tired, hurt. All he wanted was a break, one that a single quiet night wouldn't provide him—he wanted Tosh and Owen back, wanted the pain of losing them to just  _go away_.

Gwen sniffled awkwardly, trying to hide her tears from Jack. "I'll go get the ice."

"Ice?"

"I hit my head this morning, it's—"

"Painful," Jack interrupted, tilting Ianto's head towards the light. "What happened?"

"It's stupid."

"I'm sure it isn't."

Ianto grimaced as he pulled himself from Jack's grasp. "I hit it getting into my car this morning. On the top of the door."

He imagined Owen's sarcastic reply; even Jack he expected to tease a little. He didn't like how Jack's face fell, recognized the signs—it wasn't Jack's fault, it was his; he was the one that had spent so much time away from his car he'd lost the muscle memory of getting into it. Gwen came back before either of them could say anything, handing him the ice; both she and Jack looked at him as he winced and applied it to the bruise. Then Jack sat down, and Ianto shared a look with Gwen, and they seated themselves on either side of Jack at the too-large table.

"We can't go on like this."

Ianto nodded. Across the table, he saw Gwen go wide-eyed again, no doubt trying to puzzle out what Jack meant.

"It's been a month, and that's not enough. Not emotionally. You both deserve so much more. I… we're barely holding on. Gwen—you can barely get home to Rhys. And Ianto—you've been exhausted for days, how long have you had that headache? You haven't gone home for so long, you can't even remember the height of your own car!"

"We—" Gwen began, but Ianto aimed a kick at her under the table. Now was not the time to challenge Jack.

"Owen and Toshiko did not die for you to work yourselves into the ground or die an unnecessary death because we got sloppy."

"We need to replace them."

Ianto looked down. The throbbing behind his eyes had nothing to do with his stress levels, sleep schedule, or car. He was about to say something else—they all were, he was sure—but the blare of the Rift alarm, their only constant companion, jolted them out of their seats.

"In the car," Jack commanded, tiredness gone from his voice. "When we get there: Gwen, with me, Ianto, coordinate. You're backup. I'm taking you to A&E tonight to rule out a concussion, I don't like the look of that bruise—maybe we'll be able to find a medic. For Torchwood. Gwen, when we get back, I want you to do some digging: find us a tech. Don't get distracted."

Distraction was how people got killed.

"Ianto, any visitors?"

He dug through the CCTV on the SUV's computers as Jack executed a sharp turn. "Not that I can see. There's a heat signature, though."

"Let's hope it hasn't decided to dump some weird weather on us," Gwen said.

"That's always a bitch to deal with." Jack spun the SUV to a stop and hopped out. "I see it!"

Ianto had spotted it, too: a creature the size of a small cat, crouching near a bush and eyeing them warily.

"What is it?" Gwen whispered.

"No idea," Jack whispered back. "Stay alert, we don't know what it's going to do."

In Ianto's opinion, the most dangerous thing the small alien—it looked like a cross between a cat and dog, with a bit of dragonfly thrown in—would do was cuddle them to death, if the way it peeked out from behind the bush, widened its eyes in panic, and bounded towards Jack and Gwen was anything to go by. It showed no sign of hostility, or of moving from where it lay in Jack's arms, trembling faintly and hiding its face. Ianto was running a scan just to be sure, and was glad when it showed all to be quiet.

"Hub?" he asked, moving to the front seat, already putting the vehicle in gear. He caught Jack's smile and relaxed; caught Gwen's eyes and grinned.

Tosh and Owen would have laughed at the alien nestled in Jack's arms. Owen would have joked about parents, pets, and Myfanwy being jealous; Tosh would have joined the teasing with a slightly reluctant grin but a twinkle in her eye, more focused on finding out more about the alien, and Owen would have insisted on checking it out, trying to care for it.

* * *

"You don't have to stay," Jack said before Ianto entered his office. "Gwen left already."

"I know."

"Don't overwork yourself." Jack spoke quietly to avoid disturbing the alien currently asleep on his desk; they'd figured out what it was, and likewise that they would never be able to return it to its home planet.

"It's only four."

"Exactly." Jack sighed. "You shouldn't stay here, not when you can go home. There's nothing left to take care of."

"There's you."

A shadow passed over Jack's face and he shook his head. "Don't."

Ianto carefully sat at the chair in front of the desk. "Why not?"

"I can manage. I have to. Don't… don't do this to yourself, don't put your life on hold, not for—"

"And what if it's not just for you?" Ianto demanded. They'd become both closer and more closed off in the wake of losing Owen and Tosh, though he hoped that the former overshadowed the latter. "Jack, after Lisa, I—you helped me. You helped me find purpose again, find meaning. Happiness." He didn't dare say 'love', not when Jack looked close to bolting. "It helps me, too. There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Jack looked at the sleeping alien. It had been domesticated on its home planet, used to love and luxury. Now it was stuck at the Hub.

"Thank you," Jack said at last. "And you're right, it does help. Being together."

Gwen was with Rhys—there was comfort and love in community and familiarity. Ianto took Jack's offered hand across the desk and allowed himself to be stood up.

"I remember promising you a trip to the doctor's."

"And a recruitment?"

"And a recruitment," Jack nodded. The words were short and sharp on his tongue, bitter like a betrayal, and yet life had to go on, especially in Torchwood, where there was no guarantee of how long it had to go on  _for_. He looked at the alien. "Think we can convince them it's a costume?"

"They've seen stranger," Ianto said with a short laugh as Jack picked up the alien and led the three of them out of the office and out of the Hub.


End file.
